


me without you

by eternalsunshine13



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coach Katsuki Yuuri, Coach Victor Nikiforov, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, So Much Pining You Guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 02:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalsunshine13/pseuds/eternalsunshine13
Summary: When all of their friends at Sara and Mila’s wedding find out that Victor and Yuuri are finally, finally together—five years after the infamous Sochi banquet—they are ecstatic. Only problem: their relationship isn't real.





	me without you

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the Pilot issue of Shall We Read, the YOI Litmag--it was such an amazing experience working with everyone! <3

i.

 

present day

 

 

This was supposed to be it.

They were dancing, bodies close, smiles soft, hands warm and clasped. Yuuri was so beautiful, dressed in a dark suit precisely tailored to every line of his body, his hair slicked back for the occasion. It only made Victor pulse with _want_ that much more.

"Everything okay?" Yuuri asked, looking at him curiously.

"More than okay." They had kissed last night, Yuuri pulling him in by the tie, Victor's hands cupping his face—gently, scared to hold on, afraid to hope.  

And now they were dancing again, the warmth of Yuuri's breath occasionally brushing his skin. This was it. The perfect moment for Victor to tell him how he felt, how he'd felt for years now. "You're my best friend," he began, ready to launch into the speech he'd prepared for this very confession, words he'd held back every day at the rink. But Yuuri's smile froze in reaction and Victor faltered.

"You're my best friend too," Yuuri said, then looked away.

"What's wrong?" Maybe the salmon didn't agree with him, maybe Yuuri was tired.

But before Victor had a chance to find out, the brides danced up to them and cut in, Sara in all white and Mila in a deep crimson that set off her hair beautifully.

"May we?" Sara said, surprising them all by taking Victor's hand and leaving Yuuri with Mila.

"Congratulations," Victor said.

"Thanks," she said, eyes lighting up.

"I cried." He always cried at weddings. At this point, he was tempted to RSVP with _torrential sobbing_ in the line for plus-ones.

"I saw," Sara laughed. "The photographer's going to send us proofs next week, we'll be sure to post a high-res shot of your puffy eyes on Instagram."

"Why are you like this."

"Hey, it's my wedding day, I'm allowed."

Victor sighed dramatically. "I suppose." Then he broke character and smiled warmly at her. "Seriously though, congratulations. I'm so happy for you and Mila. You guys are made for each other."

She smiled back. "We seem to think so."

"It's been nice seeing everyone together again too." They were surrounded by the old gang: Phichit and Chris, recently engaged and dancing to a beat only they could hear. Guang Hong and Leo taking a short break by the bar, hovering over one of their phones laughing at something. JJ and Isabella swaying softly, eyes only for each other. Yurio hanging out with Otabek by the DJ booth. Georgi and his fiancee sitting with Yakov and Lillia. They were his family and now that most of them were retired, he only got to see them once or twice a year at an ice show or special occasion like this.

Of course his _actual_ family was there too. His Mama and Mamotchka had gotten to know Mila's Mom and Dad through the long days of training and long nights of competition, their bond forged over the years through the war that was competitive skating in Russia. Victor and Mila, for all intents and purposes, were cousins, and his mothers, her aunts.

Though they were at a resort in St. Lucia for the wedding, in many ways, this was homecoming for him—everyone he loved in one place.

His eyes drifted toward Yuuri, who was laughing with Mila on the dance floor and Victor longed to be by his side.

"You seem distracted," Sara said, glancing between them.

"Sorry."

"Yuuri told me," she said simply and waited for Victor to understand what she was saying. It took him a minute, but once he did, it made perfect sense.

The room seemed to contract. "He did?"

"Of course he did. He's one of my closest friends." Sara and Yuuri had met when they were in juniors, and for a few years, she had even trained with him in Detroit under Celestino. "He called me last week, wanted me to know you guys were going to _pretend_ to be boyfriends. Said he didn't want to lie to me." Her gaze pierced right through him. _Didn't want to lie to me_. Not like Victor, who seemed to have no problem lying to her, to all of them.

"I'm sorry," he said, chastised.

"He said your parents were pressuring you?" she asked, ignoring his apology.

That was both true and not true. They were worried about him, and on their weekly Facetime call, they were begging him to come back to Russia, to find a nice boy to marry. He was thirty-three now, they wanted grandbabies to spoil. The Babicheva-Crispino wedding was right on the horizon, which only served to increase their desire for him to settle down, and so Victor blurted out the wrong thing at the wrong time and here they were.

"Look," Sara said. "I didn't say anything until now because Yuuri hadn't wanted me to, but last night—that isn't what friends do, Victor."

The kissing. Of course she'd seen. And to everyone else, it wouldn't have meant anything for _real_ boyfriends to make out, but Sara had known the truth and she wasn't having it.

"Yuuri thinks you don't have feelings for him, but I think he's wrong," she continued.

Victor looked up, noticed she had steered them back toward Mila and Yuuri, who were now sipping champagne by the tables.

"Just tell him the truth," she said gently, disengaging to return to her bride, shooting him one last encouraging smile.

Victor took a deep breath and walked up to Yuuri. "Hey."

"Hey." Yuuri looked at him apprehensively.

"I—"

"What was that all about?" Yuuri asked.

Victor ignored the question, pushed forward. "Can we talk? Alone."

"Okay," Yuuri said, taking his hand. They wandered out to the beach, taking off their shoes and socks and rolling up their trousers, the warm Caribbean waters lapping at their feet.

"Yuuri—" Victor began.

"Wait," he said, holding up a hand. "Can I say something first?"

Victor nodded.

"I've been thinking." Yuuri took a deep breath and Victor's heart fluttered with hope. "Let's end this."

 

* * *

 

ii.

 

twelve hours earlier

 

 

Yuuri's alarm went off at precisely eight.

"Please," Victor begged, eyes still closed. "Ten more minutes."

Yuuri reached for his phone but struggled to free himself from Victor's arms.

"I can't turn it off from here," Yuuri complained. "And I promised Sara I'd meet her at nine."

"Fine." Victor kissed his bare shoulder before letting go.

Yuuri froze, then pulled away completely. "What are you doing?"

"What?" Victor's eyes flew open, and suddenly he wasn't sleepy anymore. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to get a shower." He sounded angry. They'd been best friends for years now and Victor could write a book interpreting his every word, expression, laugh, tone.

Sitting up, he watched Yuuri leave their bed and shivered from the sudden withdrawal of contact. After the water turned on in the bathroom, Victor searched for his own phone, eventually it finding it in the pocket of his blazer, battery almost dead. Normally, Mila was the person Victor went to for these kind of things but he couldn't bother her _now_ , on her wedding day.

He texted Yura but didn't hold his breath. After their last conversation, he'd be lucky if Yura even acknowledged his existence today.

Yuuri was probably just hungover, Victor told himself, lying back down and closing his eyes. Memories from the night before flooded his mind. Yuuri leading him out onto the dance floor, Yuuri reeling him in by the tie, Yuuri with his shirt unbuttoned, skin glistening, Yuuri kissing him, soft and tentative at first, rough and needy by the time they stumbled back to their room.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispered.

The water turned off but Yuuri seemed to take an extra couple of minutes, emerging fully dressed.

"Oh," he said.

"Oh?" Yuuri asked, slipping his glasses on.

In Detroit, they went to the gym together almost every day, showered there a million times, seen each other in various states of undress. On top of that, in the past two days, Yuuri had always come out with nothing but a towel tied around his hips. But he seemed self-conscious now. Victor's heart sank. It was just clothes, he thought, but he couldn't help but see the subtext, that Yuuri, previously open and relaxed, was now covered and guarded.

They were late to breakfast, Victor taking extra time in the shower to pull himself together. He'd been thrilled last night, he'd thought they were finally, finally making the upgrade from friends to lovers. His days of pining were over! His affections were returned!

He wanted to cry.

Everyone was almost done eating by the time they arrived downstairs. Thankfully, his parents were no longer there, though knowing them, it was just as likely that they ordered room service and had breakfast in bed. That wasn't important, all that mattered was that they weren't there to shoot goofy grins at the two of them and share knowing glances with each other, what Victor personally thought of as their "grandbabies are imminent" look.

Victor attempted to talk to Yuuri over breakfast, but he was nervous and exhausted from all the festivities and late nights that all he managed to do was knock his mimosa over, drenching Yuuri's shirt.

"Oh, fuck," he said, getting up too quickly in his panic and making things worse by knocking _Yuuri's_ mimosa over as well.

Back in their room, Yuuri stripped his shirt off to examine the damage.

"I'm _so_ sorry," Victor said.

"It's fine," Yuuri said, not sounding fine at all.

"No, it's not," Victor said, deflating. "I'm sorry. For everything."

This got Yuuri's attention. He put the shirt down and stared at Victor. "For everything."

"Yes, everything!" He wanted to unwind time, make this awful tension go away. Yuuri was the sun to Victor's moon: Yuuri was the source of all the light in his life and without him, Victor would be left in darkness. He could've been happy with the way things were. And now their friendship was in jeopardy.

"You're sorry for everything," Yuuri repeated slowly. "What, exactly, is _everything_?"

"Your shirt, and—" Victor didn't finish.

"Last night?" Yuuri asked in a way that kept Victor's hope alive. Just barely, but still.

"If you want me to be?" he asked. "Are…you?"

"Am I…?"

This was excruciating. "Are you sorry?" he tried again. "For last night?"

"I mean, I'm sorry that was our first kiss," Yuuri said slowly, eyes wary.

"First kiss?" Victor asked, distressed. "That wasn't our first kiss."

"What?"

"Well, I guess it's our first kiss in _years_."

 _"What?_ "

Victor looked up in confusion. "What?'

"When did we—" Yuuri's phone interrupted them. "Hold on, it's Sara."

"Everything okay?" Victor asked when the call ended.

"Yeah, she just needs me for something. I have to go. I'm sorry." Then he picked up his shirt and sighed. "Can you figure something out? I'd borrow one of yours but your shoulders are a bit broader."

"I'll fix it," Victor said. "Don't worry about a thing. It's the least I can do."

Yuuri hesitated.

"Go, Sara needs you."

Alone in the room, all Victor could think was _what the actual fuck?_

 

* * *

 

iii.

 

the night before

 

 

Victor had died and _ascended_. Yuuri had pressed him against the wall, hard, lips on his, hand firm behind his neck, pulling him in. It was overwhelming, finally getting what you wanted when you wanted someone for as long as Victor had.

A whimper escaped his lips. "Yuuri," he whispered, reverent. With the lights low and music pulsing through them, it was easy to feel alone in the crowd, just the two of them.

Their noses brushed and Yuuri's nuzzled his for the briefest moment, an action so soft and intimate that Victor's heart stopped. This was really happening.

"I'll be right back," Yuuri said. "You want a drink?"

Victor shook his head, dazed and already buzzed with something better than alcohol.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Startled, he whipped around to find Yuri beside him.

"Oh, Yura, hey," he said.

"You didn't answer the question. What the fuck are you doing?" Yuri asked with his usual impatient scowl.

"Nothing," Victor said. Even after all these years, sometimes he was still surprised by Yuri's ferocity.

"You're going to screw everything up," he said, eyes flicking in the direction Yuuri had gone.

"It's none of your business, Yura," he said, running a hand through his hair. God, he must look like a total wreck and he didn't even care.

"The hell it isn't," Yuri said. "You're my _coaches_. Couldn't you at least waited until after the Olympic season?"

Victor's eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the return of his favorite person. "It is what it is," he shrugged, tired of the conversation.

"Just don't fuck it up," Yuri said. "There are _kids_ involved."

Victor laughed.

"Don't make things awkward and force me to have to choose between you two."

"That's—" Horror creeped up on him. "You don't think this is like that time, do you?" The Sochi GPF banquet: the best night of his life until now, but also the worst night of his life in many ways, once he realized Yuuri wasn't going to call. "Oh god. It's just like last time, isn't it?" Yuuri was wasted, just like last time. Yuuri had started stripping in public, just like last time. And if there was a pole nearby, Victor was sure he'd dance on it, just like last time. "He's not actually into me. If he were, he would've called all those years ago, right?"

Yuri looked surprised for a moment, then scoffed at him. "You're an idiot."

Victor had grown fond of Yuri over the years but in that moment, he just wanted to be left alone.

"Look, is this because of what I said?" Yuri asked, sighing. "You're not going to fuck it up, I didn't mean that."

"He's never, ever shown _any_ interest over the years, Yura. I'm the one who called Celestino, I'm the one who showed up two years after a one night stand, oh God, I _am_ an idiot." He sunk down to the floor. After retiring at the age of twenty-nine with his final Olympic gold medal around his neck, he'd felt more lost than ever. Skating had been his entire life and love and he had nothing without it. _He_ was nothing without it. So he stayed at Yakov's rink, choreographing and coaching younger students just to occupy his time. But after only a year, he quit, feeling stifled and overshadowed.

In a burst of inspiration, he called around and accepted an offer from Celestino. He and Makka were on the plane the next day, and he commissioned a moving company to pack up his apartment and ship it halfway around the world to Detroit, Michigan.

It just happened to be Yuuri's last year in competition, and Victor just happened to be available to choreograph his programs and help him to a full sweep that season: gold at the Grand Prix qualifiers and Final, gold at All-Japan, gold at Four Continents, and gold at Worlds. One of his favorite pictures—the one he looked at when he couldn't sleep at night—was of the two of them in the Kiss and Cry at Worlds after Yuuri's winning free program. The photographer had caught them in an unguarded moment, eyes only for each other, the joy they shared still palpable from the photo years later.

"Wait, what?" Yuri said, jaw dropping. "Did you just say you called Celestino and moved here because of something that happened _years ago_?"

"Well, I called around," Victor began.

"Bullshit," Yuri said. "I bet you only called Celestino. Oh for fuck's sake, you dragged me halfway around the world for a one night stand?" Yuri had followed Victor to Detroit the next season after spending the year getting crushed by Yuuri at every competition outside of Europeans.

"You didn't have to come," Victor snapped, not bothering to keep the coldness out of his voice. "No one's holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want to."

That shut him up. Yuri glared at him, then stalked away. Victor knew he shouldn't have lost his temper and would've gone after Yuri to apologize if Yuuri hadn't returned then, two flutes of champagne in hand.

"The line at the bar was insane," he said, laughing, his eyes sparkling, and the fear within Victor quieted down.

"What's the special occasion?" he asked, expecting Yuuri to raise his drink in the direction of Sara and Mila, who were kissing and swaying in the middle of the room.

"It's always a special occasion when I'm with you," he said instead, and Victor could barely believe it, could barely believe it was finally, finally happening just as he was giving up hope.

After they clinked glasses and finished their champagne, they joined the others on the dance floor and Victor felt like he could fly.

 

* * *

 

iv.

 

the previous day

 

 

"So, how did you get together?" Mama asked them and Victor almost choked on a sip of water. They were at lunch with his parents and he wanted the ground to swallow him up. They alternated between cooing over Yuuri and grilling him.

"We've been best friends for so long," Yuuri said. "And we coach together, we spend all of our time at the rink together. It was something that just…evolved." He shot Victor an encouraging smile.

"Well, we also knew each other when we were both skaters," Victor added.

"We did?" Yuuri asked, eyes wide.

Victor looked at him in confusion.

"I thought you didn't know I existed."

"Of course I knew who you were." Victor frowned.

His mothers shared a look but didn't say anything.

That was the only hiccup during lunch. Yuuri handled it all like a pro, while Victor was dying, afraid they'd see right through their little act.

"When did you realize you loved Vitya," Mamotchka asked Yuuri at the end and Victor thought the ruse was up.

He was about to confess the truth to spare Yuuri, but Yuuri surprised him when he answered without skipping a beat: "I've been in love with Victor since I was twelve and saw him on the ice at Junior Worlds." Then he blushed and Victor's parents looked like Yuuri was already family.

"We love you," Mama declared when they got up to leave. "Please marry Vitya."

"Oh my god, Mama!!" Victor said, knocking into the table in his rush to escape. "We just started dating. You're going to scare him off!"

"Sorry, sorry!" she said. "I'm getting ahead of myself."

"We're just so happy to see you both so happy," Mamotchka said, pulling them in for a hug. "Especially since we knew Vitya had been pining after a certain someone for a long, long time."

Mortified, Victor grabbed Yuuri's hand and made their escape. "Bye guys, thanks for lunch!" He could still hear their bubbly laughter outside of the restaurant in the hotel lobby.

Neither of them said anything in the elevator ride back up to their room, the tension heavy between them. Victor ran through all the things he could say, finally settling on: _I'm sorry Yuuri, yes I was pining after you but I would never jeopardize our friendship and coaching partnership by making you uncomfortable!_

But before he had a chance, Yuuri spoke first once they were in their room. "I didn't know you were pining after someone. Who is it? Someone at the rink?" he asked.

"What?"

"Or maybe someone back in St. Petersburg? Was that why you left and ended up in Detroit? I'd always wondered why you left, and why Detroit of all places," he continued. "And I can't believe you kept something like that from me! We're best friends."

Feeling defeated, Victor flopped onto their bed and sighed. "That's not it," he said. "Please, let's just drop it."

"But—" Yuuri said before cutting himself off. "Alright. But one more question: are you still pining after him? Because you shouldn't be here with me, you should tell him how you feel. Then you'll know and you can either be with him or move on."

"Right," he said, his heart sinking. Yuuri sounded so casual, like he was just advising a friend, like he didn't care if Victor was in love with someone else because, well, Yuuri sure wasn't in love with _him_.

 

* * *

 

 

v.

 

a week before

 

 

"It's been so long!" Mamotchka complained on their weekly Facetime call. Well, that was probably why she was complaining—it had slowly devolved into a _monthly_ call. "I know you've been busy but you are depriving us of Makka time." Victor scratched behind her ears and adjusted the camera to better capture her.

"I'm sorry. But now the season's over, and I'll see you both in a week for the wedding."

"About that," Mama said. "Will you be bringing a plus-one?"

"Not this again. I swear, you guys are making me lose my hair and then how will I convince anyone to marry me, let alone date me?"

"Vitya, we're getting old," Mamotchka said.

"Neither of you look a day over thirty," he declared, to their warm laughter.

"Thank you, Vitya, but what Mamotchka is saying is that we want grandbabies to spoil."

Victor rolled his eyes. "You have Makkachin."

"We want _more_ grandbabies to spoil," Mama corrected.

"We just worry about you, Vitya," Mamotchka said. "Are you happy? Maybe you should move home." Oh god, they'd entered phase two of Operation Find Victor a Husband.

"No, I'm happy here, I'm not moving, and just because I don't tell you everything about my love life doesn't mean I don't have one!" he said despite the fact that he was indeed currently single.

"So does that mean you _are_ bringing someone to the wedding?" Mama ventured. "You never answered."

"Yes, okay! Yes!" he blurted out before he'd realized what he'd done.

"Ahhh!" his parents practically squealed. "Okay, okay, we promise not to pry too much right now," Mama said. "We can't wait to meet him, Vitya!"

 _Fuck_. Why had he said that?

For the rest of the call, he kept trying to come up with ways to back out of what he'd said but his parents were so, so excited that he didn't have the heart to tell them the truth.

After, he climbed into bed and curled up with Makkachin. " _Why?_ " he moaned, but he had no one to blame but himself.

It wasn't that he _wanted_ to be single when the love of his life was constantly around but forever _just_ out of his reach. And it wasn't that Victor hadn't _tried_ to get over him, but every time he went on a date he found himself comparing them to Yuuri, always unfavorably, and wishing he could be with Yuuri that very moment, cuddling their dogs and watching TV and falling asleep in a puppy pile.

He'd accepted that Yuuri just didn't feel the same way and as excruciating as it was to always be _this close_ to him, Victor preferred this existence to a life without Yuuri in it at all.

Over the years, there were a couple of moments when he thought that maybe Yuuri wanted something more too, but his hope was always extinguished when Yuuri offered to set him up with a friend or when Yuuri himself began seeing someone new.

Nothing ever seemed to last longer than a few weeks though, for either of them, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe Yuuri sat across from his dates comparing them unfavorably to Victor.

He pushed himself up and began composing a text to his mothers explaining the whole situation but he couldn't bring himself to send it.

Then a thought struck him. _What if Yuuri felt the same way about him, and wasn't saying anything for the same reasons?_ He shook his head. No, that was too preposterous. They were best friends.

But—

It was _possible_.

Once that thought wormed its way into Victor's mind, he couldn't stop obsessing over it.

He texted Yuuri: _Come over. It's an Emergency._

Yuuri was at Victor's door within fifteen minutes, breathless like he'd been running. "What's the emergency?"

"Oh, um, I guess it wasn't _that_ kind of emergency?" Victor said, cringing. "Sorry."

"What?" Yuuri said, but he spotted Makka before he could lecture Victor about the use of the word _Emergency_.

"So I may have told my parents a white lie," he began.

Yuuri looked at him alarmed. "What did you say?" he asked slowly.

"Um, well, they were really hoping I was going to the wedding with a date? And um, I just sort of said that I was? Even though I'm not?"

"Oh, Vitya," Yuuri said, shaking his head with a smile. "You didn't."

"I did." Victor almost lost his nerve then, self-doubt flooding his mind. "So, anyway, um."

Yuuri gave him his full attention, waiting for him to finish.

"Um," Victor said. "So you're my best friend. And I'm your best friend. We're best friends! And that's great!"

Yuuri nodded along, but Victor see the worry and confusion growing in his eyes.

"I mean, I don't want to be presumptuous," Victor said. "Maybe I'm not your best friend. But you're mine. Wait, not _mine_ mine. My best friend. I already said that, didn't I?" This was a mistake. He should've sat down and figured out exactly what he was going to say. Maybe watch a few romantic comedies for research.

"You're my best friend too," Yuuri said cautiously. "Where is this going?"

"Oh, good. Um, so we're best friends."

"Yes, we've established that," he said, laughter dancing in his eyes.

"Don't make fun of me!" Victor said. "I'm trying to say something."

"Okay, okay," Yuuri said, trying not to smile.

"So we're best friends," Victor began again, adding a glare to discourage Yuuri's laughter. "And I don't want to risk losing that, butwillyoubemyboyfriend?"

"What?" Yuuri said, surprised.

"Willyoubemyboyfriend?" Victor repeated.

"Oh, you want me to—"

"Yes!"

"—pretend to be your boyfriend for the wedding."

"What?" Victor asked.

"That's what you're saying, right?" Yuuri said. "You want me to act as your date?"

"Oh." Deflated, Victor just nodded. "Right."

"You're so silly, of course I'll do it—I'd do anything for you. And it won't affect our friendship. I don't know what you were so worried about." Yuuri laughed and Victor awkwardly joined in, dying on the inside.

After Yuuri left, he promptly fell on his bed face-first and screamed into his pillow.

 

* * *

 

vi.

 

four years ago

 

 

"So you're really going to do this?" Mila said, taping up a box.

"You don't have to do that," Victor said, walking around his apartment doing a run-down of everything that still needed to be done. "Leave it for the movers. I didn't ask you here to help me pack."

"Then why did you ask us here?" Yuri asked with his signature scowl.

"To say goodbye." He wrapped the Ice Tiger of Russia in a big hug despite loud protests. Mila joined them, laughing as she helped Victor smother Yuri with love.

"This is a bad idea," Yuri said when he was finally released. "Don't do it, Victor. You don't know anyone in Detroit. And Yakov needs you here. _We_ need you." It looked like it'd pained him to admit the last part.

"I've already choreographed your programs for this season, Yura. You don't need me anymore." he said. "And Yakov will come around." He had invited his coach to come but the old man was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge Victor's decision to move. "And I wouldn't say I don't know _anyone_ in Detroit."

Later that night, after Yuri had fallen asleep on his couch, Mila quietly pulled him aside. "Are you really sure about this?" She looked worried.

"I am," Victor said with a firm nod.

"I can't change your mind?" she asked.

"No. Makkachin and I are going."

"This isn't because of what happened two years ago with Katsuki, is it?" she ventured hesitantly.

"No," Victor lied. Well, it wasn't a complete lie. He wasn't _just_ moving across the world for the hope of a romance that had been dead on arrival years ago. "I've been feeling uninspired," he confessed. "I don't know what I am anymore now that I'm not a skater. I'm just so…lost. I need a direction, even if it's the wrong one because I don't know what's next but I can't stay in place anymore."

Mila nodded, she always understood him. "Come back often, okay? I'll miss you."

Victor teared up. "I'll miss you too."

"Take care of yourself, Vitya," she said. "I hope you find everything you're looking for."

 

* * *

 

 

vii.

 

present day

 

 

"Let's end this."

"What?"

Yuuri repeated himself one last time: "Let's end this."

"Oh." Victor felt his legs give out from under him.

"Vitya!" Yuuri caught him, easing him down to the sand. And then they were both standing on their knees, their pants getting soaked from the gentle tide, but Victor didn't care. Then the tears came, falling one after another rapidly and blurring his vision.

"Wait, are you crying?" Yuuri said, fingers brushing his hair aside. "Why are you crying?"

Victor pulled away from Yuuri's grasp and collapsed in on himself, crumpled like the unloved romantic he was. "Just say what you're going to say. Just pretend I'm not crying." He couldn't stop if his life depended on it.

"Okay," Yuuri said hesitantly, carefully watching him.

"Let's end this, right?" Victor said, wishing he'd get on with breaking his heart.

"Right," Yuuri said, taking a deep breath. "Let's end this. I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to be with you. I love you."

"What?" Victor looked up in shock.

"I'm in love with you, Vitya," Yuuri said, cupping his face gingerly.

"What?" Victor asked again. "What? What?" Then he started to laugh. "That's it?"

"Yes," Yuuri said slowly, the light dimming in his eyes.

"No! No, no, no," Victor said, embracing him tightly. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at _me._ I love you, Yuuri. In love with you. For a long time." Yuuri gave into the embrace and then they were both crying and laughing and splashing each other. They ran around the beach in the moonlight, chasing each other until Yuuri lunged at him and submerged both of them, tuxes and all.

"We're never going to get rid of the sand, are we?" Victor said after they'd snuck up to their room and showered.

"Nope. The sand's going to haunt us for years."

"Good," Victor said, smiling. "It'll remind me of tonight."

Yuuri smiled back. "Then I'll have to go pack some before we leave, so I can sprinkle it in your things for years to come."

"Okay," Victor said, laughing.

When they were both dry, they lay in bed facing each other. Victor was tired but he didn't want to close his eyes, not when he finally had Yuuri. When he could look at Yuuri and think: _mine_.

"Sometimes I think I only exist because of you," he whispered.

Yuuri's sleepy eyes flew open. "What does that even mean?"

"For so long, I'd been drifting and lost. The competitions and ice shows, the grueling practices and constant travel, it all started to blur together. I was running and running and running and maybe when I first began skating, I was running toward something but more and more it'd begun to feel like I was running away from something. Myself. My life and love. But then you came into my life and I felt…alive again. The last few years in Detroit have been the happiest ones and it's because of you, Yuuri. So that's what I mean. You are the reason I get up in the morning with a smile, you are the reason I want to be the best version of myself, because you deserve nothing less. You are the reason I exist: There would be no me without you."

"Silly Vitya," Yuuri said. "Of course you exist. You've always existed and the universe is better for it. I'm better for it. And now, we get to exist together."

Victor smiled. "We do."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, comments are much appreciated! 
> 
> I can be found lurking around tumblr as [eternalsunshine13](https://eternalsunshine13.tumblr.com)


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